Embers to Ashes
by ohmytheon
Summary: Discarded snapshots from the past of the Todoroki family. or; a collection of one-shots taking place prior to "Karma in Retrograde" - and before Dabi became Dabi
1. 14 yrs - Failure to Defy Gravity

**Mistystarshine notes:** I wanted to do something to celebrate reaching our goals and Ohmytheon's been wanting to write some one-shots for Touya's past, so I wrote one myself and bit the bullet and made KiR a series so we have somewhere to post them going forward. How long will this fic be? I don't know. Will it have one solid plotline? Nope. Will the chapters even be properly connected? Sure won't. But! We hope it provides some insight and you enjoy it anyway.

 **Disclaimer:** We own nothing.

* * *

There was something to be said for impulses. Touya always liked to seriously consider them because, while further evaluation revealed that many of them amounted to garbage and deserved to be dismissed immediately, some of them were genuinely good ideas. He liked to think that this one fell in the latter category.

Knowing how to scale the side of a building was a skill that could easily prove itself useful. No, he might not need that knowledge now, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't eventually. There was no telling when an extra escape route would come in handy. One could even argue that the odds that someday he would need to make an emergency exit-via-window were on the high side. Therefore, it made perfect sense for him to see if he could climb out of his window. He wasn't doing something reckless because he was curious and bored; he was _practicing_ in order to _hone_ _a skill._

In theory, it wouldn't be too hard. He only had to climb a few feet down to reach the first story overhang. From there, he could probably grab onto a tree or find some other path easily enough. In practice, it was much more difficult. It took a dishearteningly long time just to get off his windowsill. There was a lot of quiet cursing as he scrambled to get a foothold on the side of the house. Once he was content that the centimeters-deep nook he had wedged his toes in was enough to hold him, he began looking for a hand-hold other than his windowsill itself. He had just started to tentatively reach for a slightly extended plank of siding when he heard the quiet whine of a window being pushed open a few meters away.

Natsuo poked his head out to shamelessly gawk at his older brother. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Touya grunted. The plank didn't wiggle when he clasped his fingers around it or when he gave it an experimental shake. He allowed himself a victorious grin.

"It's _obviously_ not nothing," the younger boy huffed. He leaned further out of the window to get a better look at his brother.

"It's nothing _you_ should be doing," Touya shot back. He moved to grab onto the siding with his second hand, completely freeing himself from the window. Progress. After basting in his victory for a second, he glanced back at Natsu, which prompted him to call, "And don't lean so far out!"

Natsu snorted. "Hypocrite." Nonetheless, he pulled back until he was no longer dangling half of his torso out the window.

"I'm not a hypocrite; I'm just _older_." Slowly, Touya began to lower himself, one foot extended and slowly brushing against the wall as he blindly searched for his next foothold. "I can do things that you can't yet."

There was so much indignity in his little brother's huff that he could almost _taste_ it. "Not that much! You're only three years older."

Touya looked up specifically to give Natsuo a shit-eating grin. "Exactly. You're practically an infant."

The boy let out an offended squawk, which was met with a laugh that was only slightly muffled in an attempt to keep their father from hearing. As if he would notice them anyway. (And if he did, then what? It was just Touya. As long as Natsu didn't get in trouble, it was fine.) That earned him a glare and cry of, "Touya!"

"Well, you wouldn't let Shouto scale U.A., would you?" he teased.

"Shouto's eight. I'm eleven." Although he didn't say it, the look Natsuo shot him perfectly conveyed the rest of his thought. _And you're a fourteen-year-old dumbass._

If he weren't using both of his hands to cling to the side of the house, Touya would have waved one of them. "Close enough."

This time, Natsu heaved a gusty, dramatic sigh. Touya barely heard it, but the fact that it reached his ears at all meant that it must have been fairly loud. He flopped down to limply lean across the windowsill in place of leaning outright. "Why are you climbing that way, anyway?" he asked. "Wouldn't it have been easier to go down the other side? With the balcony?"

There was a certain quality to the silence that fell over them. It wasn't sinister or awkward, but it certainly wasn't pleasant either. Mocking. The very air felt like it was mocking him with every moment it took for him to scrape together an answer. Although that was ultimately only a few moments, that was still far, far too long.

"If I was in my bedroom, this way would be faster," Touya lied. Climbing down from the balcony probably wouldn't take as long due to the extra handholds provided. However, it _would_ leave him in the center courtyard rather than outside of the house completely. So why didn't he think of that _before_ speaking? He ground down the agitating thought and gave the dent in the siding his foot had found a few experimental taps. When it didn't disappear, he firmly wedged his toes in and began searching for his next handhold, one hand clinging to the previous one and his other foot dangerously close to sliding off of its perch. Despite his precarious position, as he moved, he added, "I don't need to take the easy way."

His eyes caught an oddly placed board. He grabbed it with his searching hand and in one quick, flailing movement, swung himself into his new position. For one alarming moment, the whole world seemed to wobble as he felt his fingers begin to slip, but he tightened his grip and the movement ceased.

Touya let out a relieved breath followed by a self-satisfied smirk. One step closer to the bottom. His victory was tainted by his brother's next question, this one in spoken in a softer, more hesitant voice. "Are you sure you aren't gonna fall?"

A glance upward revealed that Natsu was now frowning down at him, eyebrows furrowed in concern. The sight made him pause, albeit probably not for the reason Natsuo wanted. Did he realize, he wondered, how rare it was for a Todoroki to make such an expression these days? He knew that it was seldom seen on him, and even though she was a girl, Fuyumi wasn't as free with them as she once had been, should have been. They seemed to be growing rarer for Shouto with each passing day. Eventually, would they cease entirely?

The moment came and went. Touya resumed climbing as he spoke, hoping to prove his point with actions as much as words. "I'm sure." One more step. Two. The next one took a little while longer than the others, but it, too, was reached without a blunder. He could almost feel Natsu's worry begin to fade as his own confidence grew. It looked like he would reach the balcony in about two more steps.

He reached his next step down through a maneuver that was half-grabbing, half-sliding. The tension in his fingertips as he clung to the wall filled him with adrenaline that carved his mouth into a rare smile. Touya paused to call out, "See? I-" The remainder of his sentence was cut off as the world began to tilt. Letting go of the wall wasn't a conscious decision or even a decision at all. That implied that he had some sort of choice. The indentation he clung to was just too shallow and his fingers too sore.

Maybe he should have paid more attention to his fingertips. In retrospect, the pain he felt probably didn't mean ' _you're getting stronger_ ' so much as ' _your footholds are insufficient and your fingertips cannot support your entire bodyweight.'_

There was a millisecond in which Touya didn't understand what was happening. After that, he only had an instant to feel dread and regret. Then there was only pain. He hit the first-level overhang with a _thud_ and fell off of it too quickly to grab onto something, gravity taking its gleeful vengeance upon the fool who had thought to spite it in a motion that felt more like he _bounced_ off than slid. The impact meant he was aching during the two seconds of free falling _before_ he hit the ground, at which point it increased tenfold. Somehow, it wasn't the worst thing he was feeling.

"Touya!" Natsuo cried. Touya, of course, didn't notice. He was too occupied with the spinning of his head, the air that had been forced out of his lungs, the pain radiating through his body, and the burning humiliation that had begun to descend upon him despite all of that. There was no way he would be lucky enough that no one else heard that. Everyone was going to see him sprawled helplessly on the ground after falling like some clumsy, self-made damsel. Distantly, he also wondered if he had imagined that snapping sound when he hit the ground. That _would_ explain why his arm felt like a beaver was trying to gnaw through it.

Maybe if he could get up and brush it off quickly enough, he could convince Natsuo not to tell anyone else what happened.

Touya tried to sit up, only to be stopped by a jolt of pain in his right arm, fierce enough to force a whimper out of his throat. He even thought he felt moisture in his eyes. _Fuck._ Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to look at the arm. He would have almost preferred the beaver to the swelling and bruising that had already taken hold of it.

The rest of the world began to fade back into focus. That allowed him to register the sound of the sliding door being practically thrown open and a set of heavy footsteps stomping his way, followed closely by a set of smaller, faster ones. Wonderful. Couldn't the fall have just killed him and gotten it over with?

"What happened?" Endeavor asked. Actually, _bellowed_ was probably the better term. Touya winced for reasons that had nothing to do with his current state.

Before he could say anything, Natsu blurted out, "There was a hornet in his room! He fell out of the window trying to get it out."

At that moment, if it had begun to rain, Touya would have assumed that it was because his mortification was so powerful that it rent open the heavens themselves. If not for the pain in one arm, which was rapidly proving too severe to ignore, and the need to use the other to prop himself up, he may have tried to hide his face behind a hand despite Endeavor's probable disapproval. Or maybe the pain was actually a _good_ thing. His face was probably pale enough that even _this_ couldn't force a proper blush. What was impossible had also been rendered unnecessary by the very thing that made it impossible, thus completing the cycle of distress.

In the moment of silence that lingered between them, Touya noted that people thought about weird things when a significant amount of pain had suddenly befallen them very recently. Or maybe that was just him. It wouldn't surprise him.

There was no way that the silence would be allowed to last. With that in mind, Touya forced himself to look up at Endeavor. His reward was getting to see the man with his brows furrowed for a heartbeat before his expression flickered into one of irritation. He met Touya's gaze with the eyes of someone who wanted better, but knew not to expect it. It almost made him squirm. Instead, he tensed up to force stillness, accepting the jolt of increased pain up his arm and increased ache in his back and sides as payment. It made him want to apologize or shout. He didn't know which. Instead, he forced himself to wait for the other to speak first.

What he got wasn't worth the wait.

Endeavor, with his judgemental, angry eyes that always seemed resigned to failure before the person before him even tried, asked, "Why didn't you handle it with your quirk?"

Touya's jaw slackened while the hand propping him up balled into a fist, tearing up little tufts of grass with the motion. It wasn't enough. It didn't express - didn't release - any of the disbelief that welled up in him. The anger. Endeavor seriously thought that, if there was a hornet in his room, he should burn it out of the air? And it was important enough to be the first thing he said? A pair of new feelings surfaced on the heels of the last: disgust and bitter acceptance. Of course a lost training opportunity would take precedence over him breaking his arm by falling out of a window. Of course. Unless, of course, the problem was raw ineptitude on his part rather than a lost opportunity.

"I'll try it next time, see if the house doesn't burn down," Touya ground out. He didn't think his words through properly, failing to make them a clear attempt to point out the flaw in his father's logic rather than a threat, but the waver he was unable to keep from his voice removed any edge the words might have had. The moisture in his eyes similarly prevented his glare from being very effective.

At the same time, Natsuo cried, "It was really fast! You can't expect him to do that!"

As soon as he processed those words, Touya dropped his pointless glare and cast his brother a look of involuntary alarm. Humiliating as it was, he _did_ appreciate his brother's attempt to defend him. That didn't mean he wanted him to. The risk of Endeavor turning on him felt too real and Touya was too _useless_ to do anything to protect his little brother. He knew that he wouldn't stand a chance against his father even if he hadn't just maimed himself.

Even so, if it came down to it, he would try.

Endeavor aimed a glare at Natsuo, which he soon turned back to Touya, before heaving a sigh that sounded more like a snarl than anything else. He could almost taste the underlying message - ' _I'll forgive your backtalk this time since you seriously injured yourself with your incompetence._ ' Verbally, he said, "I'm going to call a doctor." It wasn't until he had started to march back inside that, without bothering to pause or turn back around, he added, "Natsuo, help your brother inside."

They waited until he was gone to do anything. Then, Touya grumbled, "I don't need help."

Natsu rolled his eyes. "Sure." He stepped forward to take his uninjured arm anyway. Despite his claim, Touya allowed him to haul him up, feeling a spark of agitation when he had to slump down a little. It was outrageously unfair that his younger brother was taller than him. When that indignity was over, he moved to cradle his injured arm with his good one.

As they made their first slow steps toward the house, Natsuo lingering close to him like a freakishly young nurse, Touya muttered, " _A hornet_? God. I'll get you back for that someday." His voice was strained and quieter than he would have liked, but he still managed to infuse some heat into the words.

A weak chuckle escaped his brother's lips. "And someday, I'll be able to climb walls," he declared, "and I'll be better at it than you ever could be." Natsu looked at him out of the corner of his eye and forced a small smirk. _Not that it's hard,_ the look said. It would be funny if he said it later. Since he wasn't one for waiting, Touya gave him an indignant huff anyway.

"No way." While the smirk Touya forced was probably closer to a grimace, he tried, so it counted. "You'll always be too little to beat me."

The look Natsu gave him was overdramatic, but there was _definitely_ a bit of genuine offense in there. Ah. That card _always_ got to him and _never_ got old. "Three years!" he wailed. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "...Shorty."

For a split second, Touya managed to forget the stinging pain in his arm. Then he was fiercely reminded of it when he thoughtlessly started to move to swat his brother. He hissed in pain and drew his arm in closer to himself. When Natsuo moved to reach for it, he brushed him off with a sluggish wave of his good hand, which morphed into a fast one mid-wave when his broken arm began to protest the lack of support. "So you're a giant baby," he said after tucking them both back into place. "What else is new?"

His brother laughed. Touya thought that it sounded at least somewhat genuine. However, it wasn't enough to completely offset the glimmer of concern and unease in his eyes. It made him avert his gaze to the ground. He was the older brother. It wasn't _right_ for one of the younger ones to worry about him.

Touya chuckled, warm and friendly and only a _little_ strained. "Besides, it was only my first try. I'll get better." He looked up to give Natsuo a grin and endured the burning in his cheeks caused by forcing it to remain in place as he stiffly lifted his injured arm up by a few inches. "This isn't enough to take me down."

Natsuo returned his smile and, with a jolt of dismay, he realized that he couldn't tell if it was genuine or just as fake as his. "I know," he said, marking the end of the conversation.

After stepping inside the house, they made their way to the living room and sat down on the couch. There, Touya allowed the world to slip into a blurry haze as they waited for the doctor to arrive, only focusing every now and then to see if Natsuo still had that look. He didn't, but now, he wasn't confident that it meant he wasn't worried about him.

Touya would have to start doing better.

* * *

Ohmytheon **notes:** Do I love anything more than seeing Touya with his family, knowing full well that it will only end in tragedy? I don't know. It hurts so good and even Misty's slice of life killed me a little. Touya, you fucking dumbass, I love you, but you're killing me.


	2. 13 yrs - Burn it Down

Ohmytheon **notes:** The first thing I want to say is that this chapter does involve a lot of heavy themes. It's obviously set during a very volatile time in the Todoroki household, although I feel like it goes without saying that almost any one-shot centered around Endeavor and any of the Todoroki kids' childhoods isn't going to be a pleasant one. Touya's relationship with his father is particularly bad during this period, so topics like his "training" and his A+ parenting skills will be featured. As much as this is focused on their relationship, I think Touya and Rei's very complicated relationship as well. So if these topics are triggers for you, read at your own caution. I totally understand if it's too much. I should've considered it more as I was writing it, but this felt really important to me for some reason.

* * *

Touya all but stumbled out of the rain and into the house, exhaustion etched into his bones at this point. The last three days had flown by in a nightmarish fog that, somehow, he could neither remember nor forget. If he wasn't careful, by the time he laid down for some proper sleep, he'd have to wear the quirk inhibitor braces again. He didn't want to get caught off guard by an actual nightmare that would shake his tentative control over his quirk. Honestly, he was a bit surprised that he hadn't yet. Maybe he had too much on his mind for it to happen. He could forget about his issues when distractions came up.

Their mom pouring a pot of boiling water on Shouto's face was a pretty fucking huge distraction.

Once inside, Touya stomped on the rug and then slid his feet out of his wet shoes to push them aside. Behind him, Fuyumi folded the umbrella, set it in the holder, and turned around to calm down Natsuo. The kid was nothing but a ball of energy after being cooped up inside at school all day. It had been raining for the past two days, which meant that they couldn't go outside and play. It was a tragedy for a kid like him.

Ever since the incident, the entire house had been filled with a terrifying sort of tension where it felt like anything could go wrong. It would've been a blessing to send Natsuo outside. His pent-up energy could easily turn into a spiraling ball of anxiety or anger, depending on what happened. Fuyumi spent half her time keeping an eye on him to make sure that he didn't see anything that would make him even more upset than he already was. He was perhaps the closest to their mom outside of Shouto.

Well, that might not be true anymore. It was hard to say. Their mom had loved to dote on Shouto until his training had started. Then it became harder for her to look at him with each passing day. She tried to make up for it by being extra loving at times, but it still confused him. He hadn't understood the abrupt changes in her behavior, trying to cling to her more as their father pulled him away. Touya had seen what was going on and found it difficult to watch as well. He saw the way she began to pull back from Shouto, the same way she had done with him, and it had stung something terrible.

" _You're supposed to protect us!"_ Touya wanted to shout at his parents. " _Why are we left protecting each other from you?"_

It wasn't fair to his mom though, not when she had tried. Maybe not as much with Touya as she had Shouto, perhaps realizing her failure with her oldest son, but she'd done what she could. It was almost impossible to stand up against a man like Enji Todoroki as he wasn't _just_ a man. He was Endeavor, the number two hero, and the strongest person that Touya had ever met. The most terrifying, too. A father shouldn't be both of those things.

Touya couldn't hate his mom for not protecting him enough. He couldn't even hate her for what she'd done to Shouto, no matter how much it had horrified him. How could he, when he knew what kind of power his dad had over all of them? The abuse had gotten into her head, under her skin, and corrupted her heart, just like it had done with him. Sometimes, he just wanted to burn everything to the ground. He knew it was wrong – a dark thought that he had to ignore – but that anger and pain was there and could turn into something terrible.

He understood the fear that had crippled his mother. He could never hate her for falling victim to that, especially when he felt the sting of shame for not being able to protect her or Shouto. It wasn't his job, it shouldn't be his job, but he'd never once considered not doing it. He was only thirteen and it shouldn't have been on his or his twin's shoulders, but there was no one else to take care of her and help pick up the pieces. He would save their mom. He'd keep Shouto safe. He'd make sure Natsuo was happy.

Surely, after the incident, their dad would realize that he had been terrorizing them and he'd try to change his ways. If not for him, who he looked upon with distaste at best, or his two other children, who he ignored, or his wife, whom he had used repeatedly, then for Shouto, his so-called masterpiece. He had to see that the damage he'd inflicted in the past would taint everything in the future.

"I don't want to go to my room!" Natsuo burst as he kicked off his shoes. "It's boring."

"I know, but it won't be for long," Fuyumi tried to soothe, an uncomfortable smile on her face. "We'll play games and make some cookies later."

Natsuo groaned. "I'm so tired of games." Despite being two years younger than them, he was taller than Fuyumi, having inherited their dad's build, which made it difficult for her to tell him what to do. It hadn't helped that Touya had been shorter than the both of them for years. He had just recently gone through a growth spurt that he'd been really excited about and was now a few centimeters taller. "This is so stupid."

"Please, Natsuo, don't argue," Fuyumi half-pleaded. "Don't you have homework to do?"

"Yeah, I guess," Natsuo grumbled. The change in tone made Touya glance back. He caught his brother chewing on his bottom lip. It wasn't a good sign. "I want to see Mom. Where is she?"

Fuyumi tensed. "I told you: she's not feeling well, so she's resting in her bedroom. We need to leave her alone."

"You two get to see her," Natsuo complained, scuffing a socked foot against the ground. "Why can't I?"

Touya could tell that Fuyumi was struggling, especially when she glanced back at him and he noticed the panicked gleam in her eyes. Mostly, he saw the distraught look on her face. She'd never been as good at hiding her emotions as him, preferring to wear her heart on her sleeve. He did his best to burn his to ashes altogether. She didn't want to argue with Natsuo. Like him, she probably lacked the energy to put up much of a fight. She'd taken on so many responsibilities in the house on top of her schooling; she didn't need this one as well.

"Go to your room, Natsuo."

His younger brother jerked his head up, an openly hurt expression on his face. "But–"

As much as it hurt him in return, Touya did not falter when he coldly cut in, "I said go to your room."

When Natsuo visibly flinched, Touya told himself that it was for his own good. He didn't need to see what damage had been done to their family. He hadn't seen Shouto's wound. He hadn't seen the wild, unseeing look in their mother's eyes. The image wasn't burned into his memory. If he saw them now, it would change everything. He would never be able to look at their mother the same way again. He'd not experienced how truly harsh their father could be and, although he had seen the abuse before, was mostly kept out of it. He had not felt the pain like Touya and Fuyumi had when they were physically torn apart after their quirks manifested.

If preserving Natsuo's innocence for a little while longer meant Touya had to turn even harder, then so be it. Still, it wounded him to see the effect he could have on his brother. Using his father's tone always made his stomach flip, but he didn't apologize either. He could do that later, once they had passed through this dark and terrible storm.

Touya softened his expression, playing to their mother's strength on one of her good days. "Don't argue with Fuyumi, okay? She's doing a lot for us."

"Okay," Natsuo mumbled, looking away so that they wouldn't be able to see how much Touya had upset him. He hugged Fuyumi and uttered a quiet apology before hurrying to his bedroom. It didn't escape Touya that he'd been bypassed entirely. It didn't hurt. Some things had to be done.

A sigh escaped him as Fuyumi tugged at her skirt. "I'm sorry. He's just so difficult. I should be able to handle him by now."

"Not your fault or his," Touya told her. "Can you check on Shouto? He probably needs his bandage changed."

Instead of listening to him, as Natsuo had done, Fuyumi teetered nervously. He tried not to sigh in frustration. She was troubled by their younger brother giving them a hard time and now she was questioning him. No, he couldn't think like that. He wasn't in charge. They were working together to keep their family from falling apart. She was right to question him. They had to be on the same page.

"Don't you think you should check on him?" Fuyumi asked, pulling her hand back and wringing them in front of herself. "You're more familiar with burn wounds–" She cut herself off by slapping a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide above her fingers. Touya didn't even blink as he stared back at her. Shakily, she pulled her hand off her mouth, forming a fist. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean–"

"No, you're right," Touya interrupted calmly. "I am."

He hadn't burned himself in a while, which was a miracle in itself. His quirk had flared up the second he'd passed Shouto over to the doctor. He'd locked himself in the training room as fire sputtered out of his fingers and hands like matches being repeatedly struck until, finally, he could breathe and his quirk died down. He'd stayed in there until Fuyumi knocked on the door and asked after him in a weak voice that told him she'd been sobbing. He felt like shit leaving her alone like that, but he had been afraid that he would hurt her. She was sensitive to fire, just like Natsuo and their mom.

Fuyumi dropped her hand and looked down at her feet. "I still shouldn't have said it."

"It wasn't that bad," Touya told her. Their father had said plenty of things worse than that – accused him and called him worse things, too. Besides, she wasn't wrong. He had plenty of experience dealing with burn wounds. He could barely remember a time before his quirk manifested. It was like he'd been born smoking; the sickening stench of burning flesh all too familiar. Shouto's wound was different though. The hot water had burned something fierce when Touya had slipped in it upon bolting into the kitchen. "You're more comforting than I am though and he needs that right now. Besides, you got pretty good at patching me up."

"Are you sure?" Fuyumi asked, lifting her hands to wrap over her arms so that she was holding herself like she was cold. She wasn't. The cold rain didn't bother either of them. "I don't want to sound insensitive, but you…" Her eyes flickered up and down him, making him stiffen as she quickly looked him over. She chewed on her already raw bottom lip, an action that would make it bleed if she kept it up. "Well, you know."

He _did_ know. It irritated him to no end, but it wasn't something that he could avoid. He looked like their father. He saw it in his reflection every day, making him want to punch the mirror and burn it to nothing, but he never did. The last thing he needed was his father getting onto him about destroying property. Not that he wanted to check up on his wife, seeing ashe had driven her into such a state of madness that she'd hurt her own son, but all of them knew that seeing him would set her off.

It put Touya on edge every time he entered her bedroom, but he didn't want Fuyumi in there for the same reason that he didn't want Natsuo to see her. Fuyumi adored their mother and looked up to her. They'd spent so many nights baking together, cooking dinner, reading books and drawing. It was their mother who had taught them all how to read with Fuyumi at her side like a student teacher ready to help. He wanted her image of their mom to be that bright woman, not this frail, trembling ghost that wept in the dark and didn't recognize her own son half the time. It would break her heart.

Touya rubbed his face. "No, I'll do it. I should take care of her."

Immediately, concern washed over Fuyumi's face and she stepped forward, reaching out to him, but he took a step back, which made her freeze on the spot. He hadn't meant to – it wasn't like he was afraid of her – but it came to him out of habit. He was getting better about it, but this whole mess had brought out a lot of his insecurities. It would take time to smother them again.

Although he looked away from her, he still heard the pain in her voice when she said, "It's not your fault."

He knew that. It had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the pain that their father had inflicted on their mother and Shouto, but that didn't stop Touya from drowning in a sense of guilt. "I should've done more. I should have protected them both more. I knew damn well what was going to happen with Shouto and I didn't–" He stopped himself and took a deep breath, running his fingers through his messy red hair. It was just like their dad's, sprouting up in a mess like a fire. "I could've protected her."

 _I could've been stronger._

"That's not on you," Fuyumi told him gently. "It's not your job."

"It _is_ my job," Touya insisted. It wasn't. It should have been their father's. It should've been their mother's. He was thirteen. What did he know about protecting anyone? He wasn't a hero. None of that mattered though. He still felt as if he should've done more to prevent this. He'd noticed his mother's deteriorating mental health – Fuyumi had as well – but they'd done nothing. Instead, they had watched and nervously hoped that things would get better. They had told themselves that the things would be fine. They'd get their mother back. Their father would stop. Shouto would smile again.

Ah, they were kids. What did they know?

Fuyumi took a breath. "Okay, I'll check on Shouto, but come after you tend to Mom, okay? I think he wants to see you, but he's too afraid to ask."

Touya mouth was dry and his throat constricted, but he still managed to nod and respond, "Yeah, of course."

He hadn't been avoiding his youngest brother – he swore he wasn't – but he couldn't deny that it was hard seeing him. The moment he'd peeled Shouto's hands away from his face, he had known that this burn wasn't going to go away as his did. It wouldn't just heal. He had marks on his body, yes, pink scars that were slowly fading, but the boiling water that their mother had thrown at him was something different. It wouldn't just fade away. That was a mark he would bear for the rest of his life. He would never be allowed to forget it. Just as Touya's reflection filled him with disgust and rage, Shouto's would be a stain against their parents – of their failure to love and protect him.

With the decision made, Fuyumi stepped around him and headed for Shouto's room. They had left a med kit in there so it was easier to take care of him. He couldn't change the bandage on his face on his own. Wiping his eyes to make sure that he was fine, Touya went to the kitchen. A plate of food that Fuyumi had prepared and covered was in the fridge, so all he had to do was warm it up. Not that it mattered much. Most of the food he took to their mom went to waste. She rarely touched any of it.

Before he headed for her room, he stopped by his. With the hot plate in one hand, he picked a baseball cap up off his bed and jerked it on top of his head, making sure to cover his hair. It wasn't much, but in the dark of her bedroom, it made it more difficult for her to recognize him. It hurt when she didn't know it was him, but it was better than her mistakenly seeing her husband in his place. That had happened once since the incident and she had flown into a terrified panic that had forced him to sedate her with the medicine the doctor had left for her. Maybe Fuyumi was right about it being better if she took care of their mom, but he had a responsibility to uphold.

Once outside her door, Touya tentatively knocked on it and called out, "Mom?"

There was no response, but there rarely ever was. Sometimes he could hear her quietly weeping, other times, she was silently staring at the ceiling, not really seeing anything. Either option made his stomach twist up.

"Mom, it's Touya. I'm coming in." Touya twisted the knob and gently eased the door open. Light from the hallway flooded her bedroom. Still no response. Again, it wasn't unusual. Most of the time she didn't say anything, as if she was locked in a fog or too ashamed. The times she asked about Shouto were uncomfortable at best. She knew what she had done, but it felt as if someone else had done it through her. Touya could almost believe it. She hadn't looked like their mother in that moment. "I brought you something to eat."

The first thing he had to do was remove the breakfast that she probably only picked at this morning, but when he looked over at the nightstand, he realized it was bare. He froze on the spot. The room was only half-lit, but he could tell something was wrong. There was no way his mom had finished her food and taken it to the kitchen to clean the dishes and put them up. His eyes swept to the bed, his mouth open in a question.

Nothing came out. He dropped the food on the ground, the plate clattering and rolling toward the empty bed.

With his hands free, he flicked on the light and gaped at what he saw. The bed wasn't just empty. It was made and cleaned, like their mother hadn't been hiding in it for three days. The whole room was empty. Touya's heart began to race as his eyes bounced from one thing to the next. The pictures she had of her children? Gone. Her slippers on the ground at the side of the bed? Gone. The change of clothes and pajamas he had hung up for her? Gone. The flower vase on the bedside table? Gone. The ugly jewelry box that Natsuo had made for her at school? Gone.

Everything was gone. The room was immaculate, scrubbed clean of any reminder that someone had slept in it. His parents hadn't shared a bedroom in years. This had been where their mom had slept, her one form of sanctuary in a home that had become a prison. In the first year of his training, He used to come to this room at night, whimpering and shaking from the exhaustion and injuries. She'd let him crawl into bed with her and run her fingers through his hair as she told him stories until he felt better.

There was nothing in here to suggest that this room was anything but a spare – that it mattered. This could have been any unused room in the house. No one would've known the difference if they saw it. Touya did though and it made his heart drop down to the pit of his stomach to see it missing the warmth that he'd clung to. Instead, insecurities had started to freeze the room over.

"Mom?" She wasn't here, he knew she wasn't here, yet his voice trembled as he called out for her. He stepped over the dropped food and checked the bathroom, but it was also devoid of anything to suggest use. No towels or toothbrushes or any of her makeup or jewelry. It was spotless. Not even Fuyumi cleaned this well.

Where was she? Where was his mom? Touya's heart raced and he struggled to breathe, the onset of a panic attack gripping him. He tried to focus on something, but his mind kept jumping from one thing to another. When he checked the closet, it was empty, none of her clothes hung up or shoes set aside. It didn't even look like anyone had been in there this morning. They hadn't been gone for long. How could so much change in the time they'd gone to school?

Pressing his hands against his head, Touya closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. He was freaking out, but he had to calm down. His quirk was starting to flare up, his palms heating without him even trying. He jerked his hands away at the last second as fire sparked from his fingertips, nearly burning his face. Holding his palms out in front of him, he watched as fire flickered from one fingertip to the next, staring at it without blinking until the fire was the only thing consuming his mind.

Fire was warm. Fire was safe. Fire was his.

(Maybe if he kept lying to himself, he'd believe it.)

As soon as his quirk died down, Touya dropped his hands and cast one last hollow look around the room. It felt like every emotion had been scooped out of him and dumped at his feet. His mom was gone and he had no idea where she was. What was he going to tell the others? How could he possibly explain this to them when even he didn't know what was going on? Where was she? What had happened to her?

Rage suddenly flickered to life in Touya's gut. He knew who would have the answers.

What had his father done?

As soon as the question came to mind, it consumed him like wildfire. The confusion turned into an anger that grew stronger until it was all he could feel. There was no room for anxiety when he was pissed. He didn't know what had happened, but he knew it was his dad's doing. He did his best to control every aspect of their lives, even as he spent most of his time ignoring Natsuo and Fuyumi. They couldn't do anything without him criticizing them if they got on his radar. They had learned how to hide things from him, but he still ruled the house with an iron fist. If something had happened to their mom, then Endeavor was the one who made the decision.

Instead of cleaning up the food, Touya stormed out of the bedroom and screamed, "Dad!" He didn't bother hiding the fury from his voice, even though he knew that kind of insolence would garner him a smack at best. His quirk roared inside of him like a monster, his palms burning with the desire to light everything on fire. His flames were hotter than his father's and, in this moment, it felt like his anger was as well. "Dad!"

If he had to, he would kick down every door to find that flaming bastard. Every step he took was heavy enough to wake the dead. So consumed with anger and pain, it was almost possible for him to forget how afraid he was. His father would not take this behavior well. If he'd done what Touya feared he had with their mother, who was to say that he wouldn't do something similar to him? Maybe he'd ship him off to a school for problem children or have him locked away in a juvenile detention center. He had brought both up after the last few training sessions that had gone terribly wrong.

Natsuo peeked his face out of his bedroom as Touya stormed past it. "What's going on?"

"No matter what you hear, stay in your room," Touya told him, a cold fury settling over his words.

"But–"

Touya halted and rounded on him. "Don't argue with me, Natsuo! This isn't the time!"

His younger brother gawked, wide-eyed (and afraid), before pulling his head back into his room and slamming the door shut. Touya pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but didn't have the time to dwell on it. There would be no chance for him to make it up to Natsuo tonight, not if Touya and their father came to blows as he wanted. All he could hear was his mother crying in his head, pleading for him to stop. Who though? Their father or him? The times he'd stepped between them in his useless attempts to protect Shouto, he hadn't known for sure.

It had never worked. The fact that Touya couldn't protect Shouto was just another mark against him in their father's eyes. He was weak. He was worthless. He was pathetic.

Touya burned from the inside out, gritting his teeth as he forced his quirk down. Not yet. He couldn't lose control now. Calling for his dad was useless. The man would never come out to face him, seeing as how he didn't think he was worthy of it, but Touya knew where he'd be. It was where he always was, hiding from his family like a coward. His training room, his sanctuary, the one place where none of them willingly went. Both Touya and Shouto had shed blood, sweat, and tears in that room. Endeavor could stand to as well.

"I know you're in there," Touya snarled as he halted outside the door. He hated the place. It made him feel sick to step inside, even though he'd used it to calm himself down a few days ago. It had been the only place he knew he could go where Fuyumi wouldn't follow. All roads lead here, to his shame, to his nightmare. And this _was_ a nightmare. "You thought you could just get away with this? You thought you could just hide and pretend like nothing happened? You can't erase this!"

When Touya reached to rip the door open, it slid back with a slam. His father filled the doorway, as massive and powerful as ever, his flames creating a beard. He looked so stupid, but the cold look in his bright blue eyes was enough to send a chill down Touya's spine. He didn't show it though, seething furiously as he glared up at the man with as much fire as he could muster. It didn't matter that his father was ten times stronger. Touya didn't care that he was some scrawny, sick, weakling compared to him. He'd fight to find out the truth that he knew his old man would try to keep from them.

"Where is she?" Touya demanded in a hiss. His father didn't respond. All he did was look down on him with contempt, one hand still on the edge of the door. "Where is she, damn it? What did you do to her?"

His father huffed and rumbled, "I don't have time for this," before moving to pull the door shut and close him off.

The rage that flashed through Touya was almost too much to bear. He slapped a hand on the door, blue flames exploding under his palm, and shoved it back so hard that it broke against the wall. His father didn't even blink and for once Touya didn't pull away in shame or guilt at having lost control of his quirk. The two of them stared each other down. As much as his heart was racing – as much as his mind screamed at him to run away and not look back – he didn't. For however afraid he was of his father, nothing could match his fury right now.

"You're gonna fucking make time," Touya snarled. "Where's Mom?"

Perhaps his father really didn't have time to deal with what he considered a temperamental, problem child. He was the number two hero, after all. Looking him over now, Touya realized he was wearing half his hero costume, suggesting he was on his way to work. Had he hoped to be out of the house before they came home from school and found their mother gone? No, he couldn't leave Shouto home alone, not in his condition, even if he didn't have a compassionate bone in his body.

(Weren't heroes supposed to be kind? Weren't they supposed to be considerate? Caring? How could his father have none of that and be considered one of the greatest heroes of all time?)

"I did what had to be done," his father finally answered. There was no guilt in his voice, no shame or regret. It was like he didn't care that he'd driven his own wife into a corner, like he didn't believe it was his fault that she couldn't even look at her youngest son straight. The last time she had hugged Touya had been well over a year ago and he had pulled away before she could. It was like she couldn't stand to touch him for long. He wasn't big like his father or Natsuo – wasn't physically strong or foreboding – but he didn't have to be.

After all, he'd heard her talking on the phone before. " _He acts just like him, same temper and coldness. I don't know what to do with him. He used to be so gentle…"_

It wasn't Shouto she had been talking about. It had humiliated him more than anything his father could've said about him – and he had said a lot of shit over the years. She was right though. He wasn't gentle anymore. He was furious and he barely had enough self-control left to stop himself from letting go of what control he was holding onto. These past three days had been rough. All he wanted to do was sleep through the night without Shouto waking him up by crying in pain, but he was ready to use the last vestiges of his energy for this fight.

"What you had to do?" Touya countered incredulously. "Oh, go on, this will be rich. What did you have to do, Dad? Wipe every last bit of existence of her from our lives? Did you take the pictures from our bedrooms too?" He hadn't checked, but he wouldn't have put it past him. His father was thorough if nothing else. He'd been too focused on finding his hat to cover his hair to pay attention, not that he had much personal stuff in his room. "It's not like you can wipe our memories."

His father's gaze hardened his jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in response to Touya's remarks. The alarm bells began to go off in his head. He knew that look and it wasn't good at all _(run, hide, escape!_ ), but instead of backing down or fleeing, he stood his ground.

"You think this was easy?" his father questioned.

"Doesn't look like you're struggling too much," Touya shot back. "You're just going to work like everything's normal. Sure, leave your two thirteen-year-old kids to take care of their traumatized and scared little brothers while their mom is missing. Everything's great. We're fine. Thanks for fucking asking."

It wasn't like he expected his father to start giving a damn now. He hoped that maybe he would realize his behavior was toxic. It had been a small hope, one he should've learned to ignore by now, but Fuyumi wanted it so badly and it was hard not to get swept up by her dreams. Even now, when they were quite possibly at their lowest, she wanted to be a family. She wanted Mom to get better and Dad to see the error of his ways. She wanted to go on vacations together. She wanted to take family photos that didn't end with Touya sporting a shiner and burn marks if he was in them at all.

And he wanted to give her those things. He did – he really did – but he didn't know if they were possible, especially as he glowered at their father now. The man just didn't care. There was no forcing him. The only thing he cared about was beating fucking All Might and that was that. He didn't care if he had to burn his family to the ground in order to rise to the top. They weren't family; they were pawns.

(But even a pawn could take down a king.)

"What did you do with Mom?" Touya asked one last time. There was a finality in his voice that warned of danger if he wasn't answered. He didn't know what, not with the way he was buzzing with nervous energy, but it would be something awful. His quirk was building up inside of him, boiling underneath his skin, demanding to be let loose. The training room might not be a thing anymore if he let go.

"She was sent to a hospital," his father said, the answer striking Touya like a gunshot at point blank range.

Touya staggered back, his hand slipping away from the doorway. "She...what? You threw her in an institution?"

"It's the top facility in the country, where she can get the help she needs," his father continued, but Touya wasn't listening. All he could think was that his mother was gone, locked away somewhere yet again. When would she have her own life? When would they? Would they always be stuck under his thumb? How long before his father did away with him? His ultimate failure, the black stain on his record of success. He wasn't like Fuyumi or Natsuo, who had been born with quirks like their mom's. No, Touya had failed with their father's quirk. It was an even greater shame.

"You had her committed?"

His father's frown deepened, a look on his face that suggested that what he'd done was perfectly logical. "She severely wounded Shouto. He'll bear the scar of her actions for the rest of his life. She had become a danger not only to herself, but to you all as well."

"Oh, don't act like you give a shit about us now," Touya scoffed. "You're just mad she hurt your masterpiece."

"And you're not?" his father countered. "You saw what she did to your brother. How long before she hurt you?"

Touya would deny having flinched at the question. He wouldn't cop to picturing his mother hurting him, but then she had thrown a pot of boiling water on Shouto's face, her baby boy. Who was to say she wouldn't turn on him? When she thought he was her husband that one time, she'd screamed and scratched his arms and slapped him his face. After he'd administered her medicine and she had realized it was her oldest son instead, she'd curled into a ball and cried until the drugs kicked in fully and she went quiet.

Any insecurities he felt about his mother hurting him were burned away by one simple fact. "Oh, like _you_ hurt us?" His lips quirked into a vicious sneer, one that had provoked his father into smacking him in the face a time or two. He couldn't impress this man, but he was certainly was talented at pissing him off. "This is _your_ fault. You did this! You drove her to hate us! She couldn't even look at me without flinching. She was only a danger because you turned her into one!"

A furious scowl crossed his father's face as he stepped forward and snatched the front of Touya's shirt. "Do you think you can just talk like that to me, boy?"

"You're not much of a father, so yeah, I do," Touya retorted, even as he stumbled to stay on his feet and was forced to grab his father's arms to keep from falling. At least he only had his quirk covering part of his face and not over his arms too. Touya was well aware that a blow was coming soon, but he didn't give a shit. He'd take it without any regrets. It wouldn't be the first time and he doubted it would be the last with their mother gone. Who would protect Shouto then?

It wasn't like he had protected his little brother before. He'd failed and now… And now…

"You're not a hero," Touya managed to choke out. Endeavor snarled and let go of his shirt, so he fell back on the flat of his feet, holding his hands out to steady himself. It was too much.

Tears pricked at his eyes as fire lit in his palms. Crying was a weakness Endeavor had never allowed it during training, not when he forced him to run until he puked or use his quirk until he passed out or taught him how to take a punch. Touya had thought he'd burned the tears out of him long ago, but they came back now, unbidden and unwanted. He wanted his dad to suffer. He wanted Shouto to be okay. He wanted Fuyumi to smile freely and Natsuo to laugh with abandon. He wanted to be able to walk in his own home without being one second away from his flight or fight response kicking in. There was one thing he wanted more than anything in the world.

He wanted his mom back, the one that had held his face in her cool hands and told him how brave he was, the one that would smooth his hair and whisper that he was strong, the one that smiled and held out her hands for him to hold when they went ice-skating, the one that would read him stories in her bed after she bandaged up his arms. He wanted her back, but his father had taken her away from him a long time ago.

"Touya, what's happening?" his sister's meek voice asked from behind.

Clenching his hands and smothering the fire that had escaped him, Touya turned to face his twin. However, he snapped his mouth shut when he saw Shouto clinging to her shirt with his hands and peering around her with only his right eye showing. There was fear in that single gray eye, enough to shake Touya from the fog his own rage had created.

"I…" How could he explain this? He couldn't. Their father didn't seem intent on talking about it either from the way he turned away from her slightly.

"Why are you two fighting?" Fuyumi asked, her voice already wet and her eyes covered in a film of tears. She had their mother's eyes, gray and soft, not like the cold blue ones he'd inherited from their dad.

Touya looked from her to their father, swallowing down words he was afraid to say. He was so furious he couldn't think straight. It was taking everything in him to keep his quirk from rushing back to the surface. This wasn't fair. It wasn't right. He knew from the way his father pressed his lips together behind that mask of flames that he wasn't going to say anything. No, he was laying the responsibility at Touya's feet. In his mind, he'd done the hard job - he had sent their mother away – and they should've understood why he'd done what he did.

(The sick part was that Touya _did_ understand it. Their mom had become a threat. It was one thing to sit outside of the living room at night and listen to her question her sanity. It was quite another to see that sanity break. Shouto was eight. One of his strongest memories of her would be that moment. Touya knew he couldn't forget the way she looked. His feet and hands had hurt for at least a day from the boiling water.)

Shouto's tiny voice broke Touya from his thoughts and sent him spiraling back down to earth where it was cold and dark. "Where's Mom? I wanna see Mom."

Even after what she had done, through the pain he was suffering from, Shouto still wanted her. Touya didn't know if that would've upset her or made her happy. He didn't know anything. Hell, he didn't know what hospital she'd been sent to stay. How long would she be there? Was Endeavor just going to shut her away and pretend like she no longer existed? Fear struck Touya down and he wilted under the combination of his siblings' stares. He had spent years being afraid of his father, but for some reason, facing them was so much worse.

Touya looked away, unable to look them in the eyes but also worried because it was getting to be too much. He could feel himself losing control, his emotions getting the better of him. His father had pressed him to work on controlling his emotions and not letting them affect his quirk. He didn't want to lose it in front of them or scare Shouto any more than he already was.

"Take Shouto back to his room," Touya said in a low voice.

"Touya?" Fuyumi weakly called out.

"Just do it, Fuyumi!" Touya demanded, his voice cracking in a shameful way. He wasn't going to cry, but his throat constricted painfully and his stomach twisted. Fire sparked from his fingertips again. "I'll be there in a minute."

It might've been a lie. He honestly didn't know. If things escalated between him and his father anymore, there was a high possibility they would need to call the family doctor again. The man had come to know him quite well over the years, but he wasn't the friendly or warm type. It wouldn't be good for Endeavor's public image if people found out at least one of his children suffered multiple quirk-related injuries over the years. The implication could be devastating for someone ranked as the number two hero. The doctor had to have a flexible conscience in order to treat him so many times without question.

Or maybe Endeavor wouldn't deal with Touya at all. Maybe he'd drag him to the hospital he'd locked away their mom in and throw him in there too. It wouldn't be that difficult given his clout and Touya's record of hurting himself. Things could easily be twisted to display Touya as a danger to himself and others, just like their mom.

It'd be easy to erase him from the narrative as well.

Even though he knew Fuyumi wanted to argue, he heard her pick up Shouto, who cried out, "It hurts! I wanna see Mom!" Without another word, she left, Shouto's cries fading as they went down the hall and up the stairs. She was smart. She'd pick up on the fact that neither he nor their father had answered her question or said anything in regard to their mom. He had a sinking feeling she'd figure it out by the time she got to Shouto's room. He should be there for her when she did. She shouldn't have to face it alone.

He couldn't do it though, not when he was blinded by so much rage his body was starting to tremble from the effort of keeping an impassive facade. There was no way he could comfort her when he felt like a raging inferno on the inside.

"Where is she?" Touya asked again quietly, forcing his body still. He had to stay collected. He couldn't say he was calm, but as long as he didn't lose it entirely, he'd make it out of this. His father didn't respond to weakness. If he showed how truly hurt he was, how sick he felt, then his old man would walk away. No, he had to show he was brave, ready to stand up against him and fight. It wouldn't earn him any points or respect, but it might get him an answer, which was really the only thing he wanted.

There was no way he could force this bastard to understand the shame and guilt that nearly consumed him for simply not doing enough.

"Does it matter?" his father countered. "She's gone. Move on. Let it go."

"Let it go? _Let her go_?" Touya tilted his head up just enough so he could stare at his father from underneath the rim of his baseball cap, all wild-eyed and manic. If he had been able to see his reflection, the thought that he looked like his mother in his moment for the first time might've crossed his mind. That rage though? That was all his father. Maybe his mom was right; maybe he had inherited too much from him. "She's our mom! I know what she did was awful, but it was your fault! You drove her crazy! You'll drive us all mad at this rate!"

"I didn't put that pot of boiling water in her hands," his father shot back. "I didn't tell her to hurt her own son."

"She couldn't even look at Shouto for long without being reminded of you. It terrified her. You were her greatest fear. How can you deny any responsibility?"

Touya had caught her quickly looking away from Shouto more than once. At least she still tried to smile and dote on him on her good days. Touya had long given up on it. Fuyumi always reassured him their mother loved him and he knew that she did. She loved him. Sometimes, they'd even talk when she was cooking or doing the dishes, her back to him so he was out of sight. He didn't think she realized why he always came to the kitchen when she was there. He just wanted some time with her.

And then that kitchen had become the scene of the incident. Touya didn't know whether to consider himself lucky or not for having escaped injury. He would've preferred it to have been him than Shouto. He could take it. He'd suffered worse before.

His father shook his head. "How she viewed and treated you all is not my doing–"

"She couldn't even look at me!" Touya ripped the cap off his head, flames bursting from his palm and incinerating the hat before he could throw it on the ground. In a matter of seconds, it was nothing but ash that he dropped at his feet. The distant thought that he would have to sweep it up later floated into his mind, which only made him angrier. His dad didn't tolerate a messy house so they all had chores to keep up with. The fact that his father had locked their mother up somewhere and Touya was worrying about pissing him off because of dirt only made the fire in his hand burn brighter. "I can't even… I can't even remember the last time she hugged me. My mom – _my own mom_ – and all because I had the fucking misfortune of looking like you."

For a moment, his father looked him over. He didn't even look upset, much less bothered, by Touya's outburst. As far as he was concerned, this meant absolutely nothing. It was just a thirteen-year-old throwing a temper tantrum, no big deal at all, not even with his quirk activated and growing more out of control by the second. He'd push this aside like he did everything else. In an hour when he was at work, this whole thing would be forgotten. What did Touya's feelings matter in the end? Not a damn thing.

"Just tell me where she is," Touya demanded, trying not to sound like he was pleading.

"You can't see her," his father told him. "She's in a special ward until she's considered not a threat."

"She hurts Shouto one time and she's the threat?" Touya exploded. "Did you neglect to tell the doctors of all the times you hurt Shouto or me?"

His father had the gall to scoff and fold his arms across his chest, a normally defensive move that somehow looked threatening from him. "That was training. They were necessary in order to–"

"Necessary?" Touya's eyebrows raised. " _Necessary_?" Without warning, he threw his head back and full-on laughed, the sound callous and bitter. "Who the fuck are you trying to kid with that bullshit?" He pointed a finger in the direction of the stairs Fuyumi had taken Shouto minutes before. "You've pushed him so hard he puked when he was five! Five years old! That's when you started training him. Gods forbid you allow him a childhood. You've punched me so hard that you broke a rib!"

"You should have dodged or countered it," his father pointed out. He sounded like he thought it was the most obvious thing in the world. Hell, he even sounded disappointed. "If you had been paying attention to the lesson–"

"I was fucking nine!" Touya shouted, slamming his other fiery palm on the wall and carelessly scorching the wood paneling. "Who gives a lesson on using their quirk defensively in order to win a fight against a physically stronger opponent to a nine year old? I'll tell you who: a self-absorbed, egotistical bastard."

His father's eyes narrowed in that familiar, dangerous way that told Touya his time was up. No more holding back. He'd get the full brunt of his wrath for acting out. Hurt and scared as he was, Touya almost relished it. At least then he had his father's attention, right? He wasn't just going to be pushed aside and ignored outright. He let out a breath, his blue flames flickering in his palms, trying not to wince as they flicked the bare skin of his wrists.

"It's not my fault you were too weak–"

"You made me use my quirk until I passed out from dehydration, exhaustion, overuse," Touya growled. "You made me burn and burn until I had nothing left in me – and then made me burn more."

"It was necessary for you to learn how to control your quirk," his father snapped.

"And you're going to do it to Shouto too. You're gonna do everything in your power to break him until he follows your every whim so you can win an ego contest with a hero that is better than you in every way–"

The blow was expected, but it still hurt like hell. Luckily, his father had the sense not to activate his own quirk when he backhanded Touya across the face. There was a loud crack and pain exploded as he was thrown to the floor, the hit so hard it literally knocked him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, his forearms taking the brunt of his landing, but at least his quirk had deactivated so he didn't catch himself with his own flames.

When he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, Touya spat blood onto the floor and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Classy, Dad. That all you got?" He tilted his head to the side to look up at him and smirked even as blood pooled around the corner of his lips. "A bit lackluster, if I'm being honest. Sure you don't want to kick me while I'm down? Or maybe institutionalizing your abused and terrified wife is exhausting."

Touya didn't have time to scramble out of his father's reach when the man snatched him up from the front of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. He winced upon being slammed into the wall, but instead of reaching up to grab his arms, Touya jammed his palms as hard as he could into his father's chest and let his quirk explode. He'd meant it to be a small, concentrated blast, but went overboard, the fire not only hitting him in the chest but his face and the wall behind him as well. It was a shocking enough move to force his father to grunt in pain and let go of him as he staggered backward.

No longer being held up, Touya dropped to his feet, having been on his tiptoes, and stumbled. With his hands on his knees, he lifted his head and looked at his father. His black tank top had a large hole in it now, the edges singed and smoking. Underneath, his skin was actually red. Touya's flames had done something. Maybe it hadn't seriously burned him, but getting hit dead on with fire so much hotter than his own had inflicted some damage.

In the ten years he'd had his quirk and faced his father, it was the first time he had wounded him.

Staring down at the hole like it had offended him personally, his father abruptly said, "Get out."

Touya stood up, still breathing heavily. "I'm not leaving them. Just because Mom's gone doesn't mean you can hurt Shouto whenever you feel like 'training' him." It would be irresponsible of him to leave right now, especially with the state their father was in and their mother being gone on top of Shouto's injury. This was a fragile time. He shouldn't have sought out a fight, but he couldn't stop himself either, not with all that rage.

However, when his father jerked his eyes back up to him and roared, "Get out!" Touya backed into the wall. He'd pissed off his father plenty of times – probably infuriated him to the point where he wanted to disown him – but those times were nothing compared to the fire in his eyes right now. The orange and red flames on his face grew larger, if only for a second. After all, he had control over his quirk, unlike some people. Still, it was enough to make Touya's heart skip a beat as he gaped in return.

He was furious and devastated and scared and confused – and yet being yelled at like that still cut him deeply. He could feel himself reeling as if from another physical blow. His face hurt, his lip bled, and his wrists stung from the flames that he'd let get too big. Here he was though, suffering through the urge to stare at the ground and plead for forgiveness or a hint of acceptance. It didn't make any sense. How could he feel like that when he'd been wild with fury toward his father just moments ago?

Maybe his father was sick of his face. Maybe he was afraid of what he'd do if he had to look at Touya any further. He'd already taken one person out of their lives. Maybe he simply didn't want to deal with the paperwork and sighs that would come from the doctor if he was called to treat any injuries inflicted upon his oldest son yet again.

Even with every alarm bell and whistle going off in his head, Touya took a shaky step forward. He still hadn't got an answer. He couldn't leave until he did. "Dad, I just want–"

"What did I say?" his father cut in coldly, his hands forming into fists at his side. "How many times do I have to repeat myself before you listen?" He was going to get hit again. Touya anticipated the blow, flinching away before it even happened, but didn't run. "All you do is question and fight me on everything. I won't tolerate this insolent behavior from you any longer, not when you're becoming a bad influence on the others. I won't have your weakness rubbing off on them." He loomed over Touya, glaring down at him, which made him feel small. Why couldn't he be taller? "Maybe I should've sent you away earlier to correct your attitude. You can't even control your quirk. You're weak – broken and temperamental. How long before you hurt your siblings like her?"

The words, while exactly the strike that Touya was expecting, were somehow so much worse than being physically hit. His face paled as his quirk died inside him, a candle being snuffed out. Even though it made him sick to his stomach, tears sprung to his eyes. His father hated tears, considering them unacceptable, but he couldn't stop them from coming. After everything he'd done to keep the others safe – everything he'd sacrificed to take care of them – his father considered him a danger? Then again…

Maybe he wasn't wrong. Despite the rigorous training his father had put him through over the years, Touya still couldn't completely control his quirk. He had locked himself up to keep from hurting Fuyumi, hadn't he? It wouldn't have been the first time. The memory of him burning her on accident shortly after his quirk manifested came to mind. One second they'd just been playing with their quirks, just silly toddlers – him making fire and her ice – and the next she'd been running to their dad crying that he hurt her. He was only a little kid. He hadn't known any better then. He was better now. He was _stronger_.

But how long before he cracked like mom?

Tears welling in his eyes, Touya croaked, "I hate you." Pain burst in his chest. He wanted to call up his quirk this time to match how he felt, but it laid dormant inside of him, like it was too ashamed to come out. "I hate you!" He wiped his eyes, trying to rid himself of the tears, but they kept coming. "You're a shit father and you took Mom away! You're not a hero; you're a monster! I hate you!"

When his father reached out to grab him, Touya's quirk suddenly returned to him, rushing to the surface and bursting to life as he smacked his hand away. This time though he was met with his father's flames, which were much more controlled and precise. They weren't anywhere near his actual strength, just enough to cut through his own fire, but they connected with Touya and he stumbled back with a pained yelp and gripped his arm.

The two of them stared at each other in the deafening silence, contempt in Endeavor's eyes as the tears fell down Touya's face. He cradled his arm against his chest, his hand shaking as he tried to push through the pain. It wasn't as bad as it could've been if he'd been hit directly, but it hurt.

(Fire was dangerous. Fire was terrifying. Fire was his father and Touya hated his quirk more than anything.)

Before his father could say anything – tell him off, berate him, dismiss him – Touya growled, "I wish you were _dead_ ," and then turned on his heels and ran. He wished he was stronger than this – that he could face his father head-on without running away like the coward and weakling that he believed him to be. If he had been a better son, a better brother, then maybe none of this would've happened.

Still holding onto his arm, he blew past the stairs where Fuyumi was sitting and clinging to the bars tentatively. She must have been listening in on their fight. His face burned with humiliation and he kept running even as his twin cried out, "Touya, wait!" He didn't stop, not even to push his shoes back on. He ripped the door open and bolted outside into the rain. He knew it was cold and could get him sick, but he welcomed the chill in his bones. He didn't dare turn around and go back.

He couldn't stay in that house for one second longer. He knew he should go back, especially since Fuyumi had probably heard what he said about their mom and found the food on the floor of her empty bedroom. He had a responsibility to take care of them. She would need comforting too. Shouto would be scared and Natsuo confused.

But he couldn't do it. He had failed them all. He couldn't face them. The rain poured over him, hiding the tears that streaked down his face. He had to shove his hair out of his eyes so he could see as he ran, his clothes soaked and plastered to his skin. His socks were soggy from the puddles he splashed through, his feet aching from the hard asphalt. Lightning crashed over his head, lighting his way even though he didn't know where he was going. All he could think about was what he was running from. He knew he looked like an insane person, running without a jacket or shoes in the pouring rain, but he didn't care. He just kept running and running. He had to get away. He had to escape. He had to breathe.

His foot hit an uprooted part of the sidewalk and he went sprawling forward onto the ground. He managed to turn enough so that he partially landed on the grass, splattering in the mud, but pain flared up his arms when he threw his hands out to catch himself. Instead of getting up, he rolled onto his back in the mud and grass, throwing his injured arm over his face to shield his eyes from the rain. The cold water both hurt and soothed the wound, reminding him of his mother's quirk.

Back when he first started his training and his quirk had proven to be too strong for him to handle, Touya would always go to her after, tears in his eyes and his lips wobbling. He'd hold his arms out to her or a leg, burns and bruises littering his pale skin. She would take him and hold her hand over his raw skin, gently activating her quirk so that the cold air could soothe him. It always made him feel better, even if it didn't directly help. With his skin chilled and himself calmed down, she could bandage him up. She made sure to keep Fuyumi out whenever she did this, knowing he didn't want her to see him like that. Even at four, it embarrassed him.

" _You're so brave,"_ his mother would tell him as her quirk helped bring him from a sob to a sniffle. " _How can one so small be so strong?"_ She held out her hand and he would press his palm against hers. Back then, even she had seemed bigger. He had been such a small, scrawny child. " _Don't lose that gentleness. Don't let him burn it out of you. You're stronger than you know."_

"You were wrong, Mom. I'm not." Touya sobbed on the ground, choking on the truth and gasping for breath. "I wasn't strong enough." Coughing as the sobs wracked his chest and he struggled to breathe, he rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up with his good arm. His knees sank further in the mud and he dug his fingers in the grass. "I'm sorry. I'm-"

It hurt. His arm, his chest, his head, his heart – everything. He had to be better. He had to do more. He had to show his father he was wrong. He'd be the best. He would be strong, controlled, safe. He'd prove to his mom he wasn't a monster too. Somewhere along the way, he had lost the gentleness she loved, but he could still fake it. He could still be warm. He wouldn't let the coldness or rage take him entirely. He would keep Fuyumi and Natuso safe. He would keep Shouto from falling down the same path as him.

He would do it all. What other choice did he have?

For now, though, he let everything consume him and, like a child, he cried for his mother until he had nothing left. There was no bottling this up, not when he felt as tumultuous as the storm raging around him. He let the sobs run their course through him until he was too weak to continue and could barely see straight from the tears. Only then did he slowly drag himself back to his feet, swaying in the rain. The nightmare wasn't over yet. It had only begun. He would grit his teeth and bear it, as he had done everything else before. He'd carry on. That was all he could do. Taking one shaky step forward and then another, he started to walk, but to where, he didn't know. All he knew was he had to keep moving.


	3. 11 yrs - Big Brother Duty

**Notes:** This scene is referenced in Chapter 25 of "Karma in Retrograde". I thought it would be nice to write something for a little in-between while I wait for my turn to write for the next chapter of the fic. Plus, I wanted to write this anyways. The, uh, ending turned out a little differently than I planned, but I like it. This is what naturally happened. Big thanks to Milk (on both the Kacchako server and Sarcasm and Sobbing server) for beta'ing this for me since Misty is busy adulting and turning 21! My google docs title for this was "bye bye fishies" if this clues you in on what this one-shot is about. Enjoy!

* * *

 _11 years - Big Brother Duty_

* * *

Touya laid stretched out on the grass, staring up at the cloudless sky. Every muscle in his body screamed in misery, which meant that moving was left to a minimal. Maybe, if he continued to lay here very still, he would melt into the grass and his father would never find him again. That seemed logical to him. Granted, his brain was also little more than a foggy haze, so trusting any ideas he came up with right now was probably a mistake.

He could never think straight after training. Sometimes, he couldn't even move and would spend at least twenty minutes lying prone and gasping heavily on the gym floor until he found the will to get on his feet. There was always something he had to do. Lying around doing nothing would get him nowhere. Either he had homework, chores, needed to eat, or could hear one of his siblings calling for him. He couldn't just sit there, not with so many expectations waiting to be fulfilled.

Every now and then, though much rarer than it was before, his mother would help scoop him to his feet. She didn't step foot in the gym often – it was very much his father's domain – but if she knew he was gone for work, she would creep into the room and gently pull him up. Wipe the tears and sweat from his face. Soothe the burns on his arms, legs, and chest. There were days when he would lay on the floor longer, just hoping she would come and save him, but she never did. Those little moments were becoming farther and further in between and he knew it was only a matter of time before they stopped altogether.

It was fine. He was getting older. He didn't need his mom to baby him anymore.

Today, when training was over and his father stormed out in disappointment (as he seemed to do every day, a little more vicious and colder each time), Touya had known his mother wouldn't show her face in the gym. She hadn't done it in a while. Besides, she was busy with his siblings. It was a beautiful summer day. Right when his father had come to collect him for training, she had asked if she could take the other three to the park. She didn't ask about him. Didn't even say he needed a break, despite the obvious purple bags under his eyes. Didn't look at him.

She had to protect the ones she could. His father had a tight grip on his arm and would never let him go, not until he was done with him. Touya hadn't even asked if he could go to the park too when he watched them leave. He knew better than to ask stupid questions like that.

Instead, lying on the gym floor, Touya waited until he heard the front door slam shut, telling him that his father had gone off to work to blow off steam. He was alone in the house. Instead of going to the sanctuary of his room and passing out, he dragged himself to his feet and into the backyard where he collapsed in the grass. The air was so much fresher and pleasant out here. The gym rank with the smell of sweat, vomit, and just barely burned flesh. He would need to clean it before his father came home, but for now he wanted to a break. He wanted to breathe.

It wouldn't be long before his father turned on him like Natsuo. He could see the change in him already. While his training might've been harsher than ever before, he didn't pay as much attention. It felt more like punishment, grounding in that lesson of control over his quirk, than actual training. He didn't even seem to care how he got results as long as he got them.

No, his mind was elsewhere, probably planning out Shouto's future training regiment. He was only five, but with his perfect dual quirk newly manifested, he would want to spent all of his time focusing on turning him into the perfect, little hero. Touya was just a distraction. He'd let him go now if he trusted him to use his quirk properly. As it stood now, he couldn't. He had a responsibility as a father and he hated it. Touya was almost positive his father had gotten harder on him was because he thought Touya was trying to be weak on purpose.

He wasn't. He wanted the training to end just as much as his father.

Touya closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, his mind already drifting to more pleasant daydreams, when he was rudely interrupted by excited shouting. His eyes shot open, back on the blue sky. He listened to the telltale signs of his siblings returning. Natsuo was so loud whenever he knew their father wasn't home. He could get loud even when their old man was here, but he never sounded that delighted. Fuyumi called out after him, telling him not to run with Shouto on his shoulders. Their mother was bound to be somewhere, but he didn't hear her. Maybe she went to her bedroom to rest alone.

The errant thought to do the same crossed his mind. He didn't know if he had the energy to deal with his siblings right now, especially since he'd done a very dodgy job in dealing with his wounds. They hadn't healed from the last time he'd had to bandage himself up and he needed to replace them unless he wanted them to get infected. One thing was for sure: he was becoming particularly talented in home medical care. Maybe he could become a doctor if this hero thing didn't work out.

(No, he had to be a hero. He had to prove to his father that he hadn't been a waste of time. He would show the whole world what he was capable of and do the Todoroki name proud.)

"Touya!" Natsuo exclaimed upon seeing him lying in the grass. "Are you asleep?"

"Not anymore," Touya grumbled as he pushed himself up into the sitting position. He rubbed his bleary eyes and watched as Natsuo bounded around the yard with Shouto holding his hands out on his shoulders. It was hard to tell whether his younger brother was tall for his age or if Touya was just small. He hated it. Fuyumi was even taller than him. That wasn't right. He was the oldest boy. He should be the biggest.

Fuyumi fretted behind them. "You're gonna fall or drop him!"

"Ah, let 'em be," Touya dismissed. "He's fine. They're having fun."

His twin shot an alarmed expression in his direction, which only made Touya grin lazily. Fuyumi made it too easy to rile her up. Sometimes he couldn't help himself. It felt normal, something he should've been able to do before. It wasn't until recently that he'd started to spend more time with her again. The more disinterested their father became in his training, the more he was allowed to be with his siblings. It probably wouldn't be long before he was ignored completely like them.

(It didn't hurt. He swore it didn't hurt. It would be better. He'd see.)

"Have fun at the park?" Touya asked as Fuyumi sat down next to him.

"Mmhm." She pulled her legs up against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, not looking at him when she added, "I wish you could've come."

"Next time," Touya promised, although it wouldn't be likely.

Fuyumi nodded anyway, even though she knew the same thing. "Yeah, next time, definitely."

The two of them watched Natsuo and Shouto play in silence. Despite being younger, Natsuo was not only stronger than Touya physically, but he was more energetic as well. Touya would kill for that kind of strength instead of walking around feeling drained on a daily basis. If his quirk wasn't eating away at his stamina, he was beat from the rigorous training or workouts his father put him through. Natsuo could probably blow through the same exercises that he did and barely break a sweat. While Touya had inherited their father's coloring and quirk (and temper), Natsuo had definitely got more of his build and strength.

And then there was Shouto, perfectly split down the middle. He was still happy and naive. Touya's heart ached, wishing he could keep it that way. He had sat in the hallway the other night, listening to Shouto and their mom watch some special about All Might on television. They only watched interviews with him when their father was out of the house, unless they wanted to be involved in an explosion. Shouto really thought he could be a hero with his own power – with his quirk.

Their father would change his mind soon enough. It was only a matter of time before he wrung the softness out of Shouto and there was nothing either he or their mom could do about it.

Fuyumi glanced at him again and startled. "Touya, your arm–" She reached out for him instinctively, but he pulled his arm out of her reach and she froze.

"It's fine," he muttered as he tugged on his sleeve. There might've been a nice breeze going on, but it was hotter than hell out here. The last thing he of all people needed to do was wear long sleeves. Overuse of his quirk made it feel like his insides were boiling. Sweat continued to bead along his face, which he knew was flushed. However, his comfort wasn't as important as his siblings' and he knew the injuries would make them uncomfortable.

Judging by the way his twin sister chewed on her bottom lip, he wasn't wrong. "You should change the bandage."

"I will."

"Do you...want me to help?" She meant with her quirk. It wasn't as extreme as their mother's, her cold-related powers dimmed by their father's quirk, but she could still soothe the pain that littered his body after using his quirk for extended periods of time. Having her run her hands up and down his arms would feel like heaven, especially in his heat, but he didn't want to use her. His stomach flopped at the thought.

Touya shook his head. "No, I'll be fine."

Instead of arguing with him, Fuyumi sighed and pulled her legs to hug against her chest. They fought like all siblings did, even more so as they became reacquainted with each other. There was so much he had missed with her because his father hadn't wanted him distracted from his training. In the end, none of the sacrifices had been worth it. He'd lost precious memories with his twin because of a dream that would never come to be.

He wanted desperately to make up for them now, but it was hard constantly being around someone that he always felt like was one step ahead of him in some respects. Things remained unbalanced and awkward between them. It would be better eventually, but he wished it was great now. He was as impatient as their father. It wasn't one of his better qualities to inherit.

"Oh shit!" There was a thud of something solid landing on the grass. "Sorry, Shouto, I– Whoa! What did you do?"

Both Touya and Fuyumi snapped out of their respective daydreams to look up where Natsuo had shouted. The moment he spotted the entirely frozen koi pond, Touya jumped to his feet while Fuyumi gawked from the ground. It wasn't a large pond like one would find in the wilderness, but it wasn't small either and it was deep enough for someone to drown in if not careful. However, it was currently a block of ice that Touya knew went all the way down.

"I'm sorry!" Shouto cried out. "I didn't mean it!"

"You're fine," Touya reassured him, although his attention was still on the pond. He strode toward it and then bent down so he could run a finger over the ice. It was perfectly smooth and cold. He resisted the powerful urge to lay flat across it and wait for the ice to melt on its own. The chill that radiated from it was gentle. He pressed his palm against the ice and soaked in its comfort, the cold soothing his overheated skin. "It was an accident."

When he glanced back up, Fuyumi was holding him while he clung to her middle. "I fell and got scared and I didn't mean to do it." Big globs of tears welled in his mismatched eyes as his lips wobbled. He was a kind kid, one that dreamed of being a hero like All Might said he could be. He still had hope and wonder. It wouldn't be long before tears would feel like a dream to him. Their father didn't tolerate them. "Are the fish okay?"

Touya peered at the frozen fish in the ice. There was no way for them to move, much less breathe in there. Even if they could, undoubtedly the shock of the temperature change had killed them, so all in all, the fish were decidedly not okay. He wasn't sure what to say. Lifting his head, he connected eyes with Fuyumi and shook his head. She had known that was the case, but it didn't stop a look of despair from crossing her face anyway. Shouto caught it as well and started to cry.

"Hey, bud, it's not that bad," Touya reassured him. "They probably didn't feel any pain. It was quick."

"N-no! They're alive!" Shouto cried. "They just gotta swim!"

Oh, the resilience of a child's innocence – it was truly a thing of beauty, something Touya could only vaguely recall. Shouto wouldn't have it for much longer. Their father would burn it out of him soon enough once the training started to get more intense.

Fuyumi smoothed his hair down. "Shouto, they're not–"

"If I melt the ice, they can swim!" he insisted. Before Fuyumi could repeat herself, Shouto jerked out of her grip and got on his knees at the pond's edge. He slapped his left hand against the ice and fire erupted from his palm. Touya barely had time to pull his hand away from the ice before getting burned, stumbling back on his ass away from the flames. Even Fuyumi and Natsuo yelped in surprise, jumping away. It was hot. No five-year-old should have a power that strong. It was too much for a young age.

Touya would know: he had been even worse with his flames.

At least Shouto showed some semblance of control. The fire stayed contained to the pond as it melted through the ice. Judging by the screwed up expression on his face, one filled with concentration, and the sweat beading on his face, he was trying to make his flames hotter, like Touya's and their father's. He was young, so it would be a while before he could match their father's heat with his flames. He'd be able to turn them hotter easier once he was taught the method, especially since the other half of him balanced his temperature out.

However good Shouto's intentions were – however strong he was with his fire half – there would be no saving the fish. Their deaths would be his first casualties. Lessons in collateral damage. If their father got mad at them for spending too much time with Shouto, Touya could always point that out to him. This was educational. Shouto would have to learn about death eventually, especially if he was going to be a hero. Not everyone could be saved, not even a couple of prized koi fish.

Once the ice was gone, all that was left of the pond was a small puddle. Despite the lack of water, which had been turned mostly into steam, the fish didn't flop around desperately. They didn't move at all. Lying flat in the mud, rocks, and puddle, the large fish were totally unresponsive. The four children stared at them, as if willing them to move, but nothing happened.

They were dead.

They were also sizzling after being exposed to Shouto's fire, smoke drifting up from their scaley bodies, an almost cooked fish smell in the air. Thinking it might cheer them up to make a joke (and also because he thought it was darkly hilarious), Touya slowly stood up and brushed his hands off on his pants as he said, "Well, looks like we're having fried fish for dinner tonight."

Shouto burst into tears and wailed at the top of his lungs. Natsuo choked on a laugh, but was able to stop himself by slamming his hands over his mouth. Fuyumi exclaimed, "Touya!" in shock.

Touya grinned back at her and shrugged his shoulders. What? It was funny.

Fuyumi glared at him. "It's not funny."

"It kind of is," Touya replied, that shit-eating grin still on his face.

"It's not!" Fuyumi shot back. "Apologize to him."

Touya glanced down at Shouto, who had sat back on his haunches and was currently crying enough to refill the pond. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Comforting was not his expertise. He was decent enough at it to cheer Shouto up after a training session. He sometimes said the right things to Fuyumi when she was distraught to calm her down. He knew their mom liked ice cream whenever she was sad and he knew not to be around when she ate it. He was good at distracting Natsuo from the issues in their family with games and movies.

But none of those things were really comforting. It was lying. Even at a young age, Touya was really good at lying.

So, if he had to do that – play pretend, make up a story, anything – he would do it. For Shouto since they didn't get to spend a lot of time together and for Fuyumi since she asked.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Shouto," Touya said as he walked over to crouch down next to him. "I didn't mean it."

"We can't eat-eat them!" Shouto sobbed.

Touya rubbed his back soothingly. "I know. We won't."

"If we-we eat them," Shouto continued, no less distraught, "then we can't-can't give them a funeral!"

Well now, that was a surprising explanation. Touya had just thought it would be weird. Sure, they were just fish, but they'd been living in this pond for a while, so it was kind of like they were pets. Really boring, dumb pets. They were kind of a waste to Touya. Fish that they couldn't eat? Animals they couldn't play with? How dull. But they were stupidly expensive and Shouto had just killed them all in one go. Their father was either going to be really mad about the waste of money or really impressed with Shouto's abilities. Probably the latter. If it had been Touya to do this, he wouldn't have seen the light of day for weeks.

"Er, yeah, a funeral…" Touya peered up at Fuyumi and gave her a, What the hell do I say to that? look that she read loud and clear. To which she shrugged her shoulders and stayed silent, leaving him on his own.

"We gotta have a funeral," Shouto insisted, "so they can go to fish heaven."

Touya stared at the dead fish, his little brother's words bouncing around his mind. "Fish...heaven...right, okay."

The last thing he wanted to do was waste time on some stupid bullshit funeral for a handful of smelly fish. He was tired. He wanted to crawl to his bedroom, collapse in bed, and sleep until dinner. He had neither the energy nor desire to do anything remotely close to a fish funeral. However, the moment Fuyumi bent down on Shouto's other side and put a hand on his back, he knew he didn't have a choice. This was happening whether he liked it or not, no matter how dumb it was.

"We'll have a funeral for them, okay?" Fuyumi soothed. "It'll be very respectful. That way they can pass on to the afterlife peacefully."

The afterlife for fish. Yeah, it was called his stomach.

He must've rolled his eyes again because Fuyumi glared at him over Shouto's back and Touya added, "Yeah, we'll bury them back here so they're never away from home." He did not want to dig a hole large enough to fill it with multiple dead fish, but he didn't have much of a choice. Patting Shouto on the back one more time, he pressed his hands against his knees and pushed himself back up. Natsuo was hanging in the background, watching them with an innocent gaze and waiting to be involved.

"Take Shouto inside," Touya told him. "Get him a cookie, watch a movie or play a game, anything to distract him."

"He's gonna keep crying," Natsuo complained.

Touya glanced back to where Fuyumi was doing her best to console Shouto. It wasn't working. He kept on babbling about the fish and how he didn't mean it, to the point where it was difficult to understand him. To be honest, seeing him this open with his emotions was kind of a relief. He had only just started training with their father, but the man would do whatever he could to rid Shouto of any perceived weakness. Crying would not be tolerated. Showing pain would be punished. He would have to develop a poker face early on if he was going to survive. Touya did his best, but even his mask slipped sometimes.

"Just do whatever you can to get him to stop," Touya said, knowing how cold it made him sound. The crying did grate on his ears a little, but he attributed it to how much his father always ranted about how weak it made a person sound and look. He wasn't irritated with Shouto, just tired. Too tired to deal with such strong emotions when all he wanted to do was fade away. "If he's still whimpering when Dad gets home from work, it won't be pretty for any of us."

He wasn't sure what would happen, but he knew their father wouldn't be happy. It was hard to tell what to expect when their father was unhappy about anything at home. Sometimes it meant he ignored them completely, especially Natsuo; other times it meant punishments that usually he took or sometimes Fuyumi if it involved anything domestic. Either way, it put a dark cloud over the house that had everyone walking on eggshells, afraid to make the wrong move that would set him off like a volcano.

Natsuo might've been just a kid, but he understood well enough. Nodding, he strode over to Fuyumi and Shouto where Touya heard him ask, "Hey, wanna go inside and play a video game with me?"

They didn't get these opportunities with Shouto very often. Soon enough, their father would make sure that little moments like this didn't exist. He would live in a completely different world than them. His sole mission would be to become the greatest hero. Nothing else would matter, certainly not relationships with his failed siblings. Touya had barely been allowed any contact with his siblings, even his twin. He'd barely known them when his father stopped being so strict about it. Eventually, Shouto wouldn't be allowed to know them either or vice versa. He couldn't have them contaminate his masterpiece.

All three of them knew it would be any day now. Shouto would be cut off from them. It left them scrambling to get as much interaction with him as possible, as if they could squeeze so many memories with him in a few months' or even weeks' time. It wouldn't be enough. It was never enough. They could live in the same house, but only be vague concepts to him, if their father had his way. Touya had known Natsuo liked sports, but hadn't found out his favorite was football until a few months ago.

It wasn't fair. Life wasn't about being fair though. These dead fish could attest to that, if they were alive.

Once Natsuo and Shouto were inside, Fuyumi stood up, wringing her fingers in front of her. "I'll get the shovel."

"Nah, I'll do it," Touya said tiredly.

Fuyumi teetered anxiously. "But you look so…"

"I got it," Touya insisted, a little firmer this time. He wasn't so tired that he'd pawn physical labor on his sister, even if she was taller than him. Natsuo would probably be faster at it, but that would just make him feel even worse. He was the oldest son. He should be able to dig a stupid hole. "Could you get a box and some paper?"

"Yeah, no problem, I can do that." Fuyumi nodded decisively. "I'll get the fish." When he opened his mouth to protest, she added, "Because I know how your stomach is. I don't want you to throw up on them because of the smell or feel."

Touya wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, you're probably right."

His fickle stomach was a bitter point of contention with his father. It was humiliating. Not only did he puke a lot during training, but he got motion sickness. That was no good for someone training to be a hero. Some fights involved a lot of fast-paced movements. He didn't need to get sick on a villain he was trying to capture or defeat because he spun or jumped around too much. What kind of hero got sick in a car? It was pathetic.

As Fuyumi walked back into the house, Touya walked to the shed. It was locked, the keys somewhere, but that didn't faze him too much. Chances were it would be a while before his dad needed anything in the shed (because the number two hero did not do his own lawn care), so he wouldn't notice that the lock was gone – or rather, that someone had melted it.

Pointing a finger at the clip part of the metal lock, Touya activated his quirk and focused as hard as he could. It wasn't a massive flame by any means, but the small concentration of incredibly hot fire worked as a torch until it finally melted through the metal. The second it fell to the ground, he deactivated his quirk and took a shaky breath. He normally didn't use his quirk for hours after training. Doing so now made his stomach flip and a wave of exhaustion crest over him, but the job was done.

In the dark shed, he hastily found the shovel and shut the door behind him when he walked back into the sun. It had felt like an oven in there, the darkness not providing any relief. The trick would be to find a spot to dig. Again, it wasn't like their father cared about how the lawn looked, but he'd get pissed if he found a hole dug with dirt thrown over it in the middle to be seen. Touya found a spot behind a tree that looked decent enough. It was in the shade, at least, and out of the way so people wouldn't spot it immediately.

Digging a hole was decidedly...not fun. He had to make sure it was big and deep enough to fit whatever box Fuyumi found to put the dead fish in. By the time he was finished, sweat had soaked his t-shirt all over again and he was red in the face, a profound exhaustion in his bones. If his father found him doing this, he'd probably just turn digging holes into a form of punishment. His calluses on his palms hurt more than normal.

Before he could stroll inside for a glass of much-needed water, Fuyumi ran out the door, a box and gloves in her hand and a panicked look on her face. Touya didn't even need to hear her speak in order to know what was going on. She only wore that face for one reason. Still, his heart dropped into her chest when she gasped, "Dad's home!"

"Are you shitting me?" Touya hissed. "He just left for work an hour ago! What's he doing back so soon?"

The sudden spike of adrenaline in his veins did not curb the exhaustion in his bones. Instead of making him more alert, Touya only felt anxious. He didn't have the energy to deal with his father. After training with him, he always counted on being ignored for a day. That way he could recuperate and regain his strength. He wouldn't have time to do any of that if their father found out that Shouto had killed all the koi fish on accident. There was no way he would tolerate Shouto accidentally activating his quirk. That was a mistake for Touya to make – his failure, not his masterpiece.

"Quick," Touya said, shoving Fuyumi in the direction of the dry pond. "Get the fish in the box and hide them behind the tree."

Fuyumi's eyes were wide with alarm. "What about Dad?"

"I'll deal with him," Touya told her. She shook her head mutely and grabbed his arm. Fighting back the urge to wince, he gently peeled her fingers off of his arm and squeezed her hand. "I'll make sure he doesn't come outside."

"Why did he come back?" Fuyumi whispered tearfully.

"Maybe he just forgot something," Touya said as he let go of her hand. "He left in a hurry." He always did when Touya failed him badly. "I'll find out. You just deal with the fish."

It would be better if she wasn't around in case there was a nasty confrontation. He couldn't let their dad find out that Shouto had killed the fish. That was the important part. If he did, well… Touya would take the blame. It would be easy for him to believe. Maybe, if he was punished enough, he wouldn't have to do training for the rest of the week. Maybe it would be the last straw and he'd never have to train again.

Slipping into the house, Touya wiped his sweat from his face with his shirt, trying to make himself look at least a little presentable, and peered around the corner. Somewhere around the house, his father was stomping around, his footsteps sounding like thunder in his boots. He imagined their mom puttering around the kitchen, making tea and trying to pretend like each step didn't make her flinch. She still liked to act like things were okay and they were a normal family despite all the evidence to the contrary.

Once he neared the kitchen, Touya slowed down and ducked around the corner before he could cross paths with his father coming down the stairs. Besides his hero costume, he noticed a bag slung over his father's shoulders, a tight grip on the strap. His father stepped into the kitchen where their mother was indeed making tea just as he had envisioned. She froze upon seeing him and stepped closer to the tea kettle. As if that could help her.

But no, their father wouldn't hit her now. She wasn't in his way. The kitchen was her place, like her bedroom was. Now that they had Shouto, there wasn't any cause or need for their father to visit her there anymore.

"I've been called on a mission out of town," his father told her in his straightforward manner. There was no room for argument. This was what would happen, whether she liked it or not. He made the decisions. He made the rules. They could take it or, well, take it. "I will be gone for a few days. I trust you can take care of the children on your own in this time."

His mother bowed slightly in respect. "Of course."

"Touya's and Shouto's tutors–"

"I know their schedules." His mother paled at the realization that she'd interrupted him, but for once, his father didn't seem to mind it. Already turning to walk out of the kitchen, he was in too much of a rush to care. His work would always be more important than his family. A hero's job was never done.

(Neither was a father's, but that didn't seem to matter to him either.)

"I will be gone, but do not let them slack on their strength and cardio training," his father ordered. "Have Touya do Shouto's. The boy should be good enough for a five-year-old's lessons, at least."

Something uncomfortable stirred in Touya's chest, something akin to pride, but it was too good to be true. Touya knew that he was their father's last resort. No one else understood the training that their father put them through. He only knew because he'd lived it. There was no way he would be nearly as harsh as their old man. He could make it fun for Shouto. It would be nice. They'd have fun. It would give them time to bond. Maybe even play with their quirks. It was important for Shouto or he'd grow to hate his quirk like Touya

As his father swept out of the room, Touya ducked around the corner to avoid being seen. He wasn't sure if he would get in trouble for eavesdropping, but he didn't want to test fate after hearing such good news. Not only was he in charge of leading Shouto's training (and he would not look into it because his father's words had ended with the implication that he was largely worthless), but they would have a few days without their father around.

No Endeavor. No Dad. Just his siblings, their mom, the maid, and tutors.

It was practically a vacation in itself.

Touya didn't move from his spot in the dark hallway until he heard the front door slam shut. In the kitchen, his mom began to putter around the kitchen, even humming gently to a tune from the radio. Ah, she was in a bright mood already. Good – that was good. When she was in one of her good moods, the whole house lightened up. Still, they would need to be careful about the fish. She had also loved going to the pond and watching them swim. Finding out they were dead would devastate her.

As he wandered through the house, Touya considered his options. He knew where their father stashed some money, but stealing from him was dangerous. It was akin to walking a field littered with landmines. He might get to the other side unscathed or he might make a wrong step and be blown sky high. His father didn't check it often, if only because it was for emergencies and he was very firm in his belief that none of his kids would ever steal from him.

So far, they hadn't, but Touya wouldn't lie. He'd considered nicking from it and buying a bus ticket out of town. The only issue was that he was just a kid and had nowhere to go. He didn't fancy ending up on the street. His father wouldn't take him in if he came crawling pack.

This plan wasn't for himself. If he was caught, maybe he could explain the situation so that it sounded enough like an emergency to his father. (Not likely.) It would be easy for him to sneak out of the house to buy the fish, but they were expensive. However, they also made both his mother and Shouto happy. He liked feeding them and watching them splash about in the water. And, for training to go well, it was good for Shouto to be happy. It made sense to Touya, but then he was a kid and also exhausted out of his mind.

By the time he stepped outside, Touya found Fuyumi putting a lid over top a large box. He hadn't come any closer to making a decision. He'd sleep on it. Fuyumi would shoot it down if he asked her. The idea of doing something behind their father's back for any reason made her terribly anxious and he didn't want to put her through that. The last time she had been put on the spot by their father over dirty dishes in the sink, she had burst into tears and apologized even though they hadn't been her fault. Such a people pleaser, she didn't like disappointing people. As Endeavor's greatest failure, Touya was pretty used to it.

"Is everything alright?" Fuyumi asked.

"Yeah," Touya replied distractedly. "He just came back to get his overnight bag. He's been called on a mission, so he'll be gone for a few days."

"Oh." Fuyumi sat still on her haunches, staring down at the box. "Do you think he'll be okay?" She chewed on her bottom lip. She needed to get over that nervous habit. Their dad had gotten onto her about it already. A potential husband might not find her attractive if she was so anxious all the time. "I mean, do you think he'll be...safe?"

Touya waved a dismissive hand. "He's the number two hero. He'll be fine."

 _Although sometimes I wish he wasn't._

What if their father didn't come back? What would they do then? Would they have to move?

Would he care? Touya sometimes swore that he'd rather live in a shack than this mansion, but then he'd just been scared about living on the streets minutes ago. If he could just make up his mind about what he wanted…

"C'mon, let's get it over to the hole," Touya sighed. "I wanna finish this as soon as possible."

Fuyumi wrinkled her nose. "It does smell pretty bad."

Getting anywhere near a box filled with dead fish in this heat sounded like a terrible idea. His stomach was already weak from training, digging that hole, and panicking over his father's sudden return. The smell would only make it worse and he'd probably throw up on it, which in turn would make Fuyumi sick. He'd have to do his very best to contain his nausea until this whole morbid affair was over.

Bending down to her level, Touya grabbed one end of the box while she grabbed the other. Together, they lifted the box. It wasn't that heavy, but neither one of them would've been able to pick it up on their own, especially not while he was in this condition. Once they scuttled over to the hole behind the tree, they unceremoniously dropped it inside and then stared down at it as they regained their breath.

"God, that fucking reeks," Touya muttered.

"Language," Fuyumi said half-heartedly. He shrugged. "I'll go get Shouto and Natsuo."

Touya leaned his head back and groaned. "I can't believe we're having a funeral for fish."

"It's Shouto's first experience with death," Fuyumi said gently. "We need to be here for him."

"Isn't this something that parents are supposed to do?" Touya grumbled. He didn't have to see her to know that she had flinched. Before she could say anything, he continued, "Nah, this is what big brothers and sisters are for, right? And it's Natsuo's first experience too. He probably feels guilty for dropping Shouto and startling him. Go on. I'll be here waiting."

After a moment's hesitation, Fuyumi left again. To be honest, he was grateful she had offered to retrieve them. If he was going to get through this, he needed to save as much energy as possible for emotional strength. He was already at his limit and would have to push it a little more. Running on empty was never fun, but using the last dregs of it for emotions was always particularly painful. It took so much out of him.

When his siblings returned, they found Touya slumped against the tree, absolutely still. He'd allowed his mind to go absolutely blank in the meantime. Even getting excited over his father being gone drained him. As soon as they got close, Shouto broke free from the group and ran to him, throwing his arms around his middle and smashing his stomach. Fuyumi gave him an apologetic smile, but he could only sigh and pat his little brother's head. They would get through this together.

Shouto pulled away and wiped his face. Oh, good, he'd got snot and tears all over Touya's shirt. Whatever. It was dirty and covered it sweat anyway. "This is a good spot."

"Glad you approve," Touya said dryly. Fuyumi glared at him. He cleared his throat. "I thought it would be nice for them to be under the shade of the tree, you know? It's…" Memories of climbing the tree to hide in the leaves whenever his father was in a foul mood came to mind. "It's peaceful."

Fuyumi stepped forward and bent down to Shouto's level. "How about you put some dirt over the box? It'll be like a sign of respect and honor."

"And then we say words about them?" Shouto asked.

"Huh?" Fuyumi blinked in surprise. When she glanced up at Touya and then Natsuo, the two brothers gave her questioning looks in response. Say words about the fish? Why would they do that? It sounded stupid. They were dead and would be replaced by other dumb fish. There was nothing to them anymore.

"That's what they do in movies when people die," Shouto explained. "Their family says nice words about them."

Since his brother had his back turned to him and was looking hopefully at his twin, Touya rubbed his face in a bad mixture of irritation and exhaustion. Why did it have to be this day? He could've been passed out asleep in his bedroom, only to wake up to the incredible news that they'd be Endeavor-free for a few days. He could've been scarfing down some of his mother's food. Anything but this. He was fucking tired.

"Yeah, we can say some nice words for the fish," Natsuo concurred.

Fucking awesome.

With some guidance from Fuyumi, Shouto went first. He picked up a small handful of dirt and threw it on the box, staring down it more solemnly than any child his age should be capable of. "You were good fish. You liked to swim and splash and eat. Mom said fish have the spirit of the moon in them, so you swam lots at night. She thought you were so pretty." His lips wobbled and tears welled in his eyes, but he kept them in. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll be better. I promise. I won't hurt anyone ever again with my quirk. Dad's teaching me. I'll be better."

The clear struggle to keep himself together made Touya's stomach twist. Shouto was trying to be strong. In his mind, that meant he wasn't allowed to display any negative emotions, which were a sign of weakness. Touya hated it. That wasn't right. Shouto was five. He was just an innocent, little kid. He should be allowed to cry when he was upset or sad. Their father wasn't teaching him shit.

Touya should've said something, anything, but he didn't. He stayed utterly still and silent. Truth was, he couldn't manage to muster much of anything either. He just felt...nothing. Empty. Devoid of caring.

Fuyumi went next, picking up dirt and slowly letting it slip between her fingers like sand in an hourglass. "There was always something really peaceful about watching you in the pond. I'm truly grateful for those quiet moments outside with you all." Even though she had been confused earlier, once the situation hit her, she began to choke up. Ah, she had always been freer with her emotions than him. She hadn't had them beaten out of her. It wasn't a bad thing, but it still made him shift uncomfortably. "Thank you."

It wasn't a necessarily a good thing, but Touya was relieved when Natsuo stepped forward awkwardly. He tossed some dirt into the hole and muttered, "I'm sorry for dropping Shouto. I never really paid you all much attention. Maybe I should have. It's gonna be weird without you in the pond. Mom liked you a lot. I'll probably notice it more now. Sorry."

And then it was his turn. Touya was content to silently stay in the background, but then Shouto's red-rimmed eyes swept back to him and he felt himself stepping forward. He didn't give a shit. The thought kept resounding in his head. ( _I don't care about these stupid fish. They're dead. What's the point?_ ) He had to do this though. As much as he didn't care, a part of him knew it was important. One day they'd look back on this memory and laugh – Shouto had flash frozen and then flambeed their koi fish, for fuck's sake – but right now they were all deadly serious.

As the oldest son, it was important that he set the right example. It was why he had taken it upon himself to dig the grave, prepared to take the blame for their deaths, and even planned on buying new ones to refill the pond so their parents wouldn't find out. He was the firstborn son. He had responsibilities to his siblings, even his twin sister.

Touya picked up a handful of dirt and held his hand over the box. "I used to hate how carefree you all were. Day in, day out, just swimming in your little pond, completely unaware of the world. You didn't have to worry about anything. Mom, Shouto, and Fuyumi fed you all way too much and no one expected you to do anything but swim. I hated that." He swallowed. Why was this so difficult? It didn't matter. They were just fish. "But then you were always there when I came out here to get fresh air, doing your dumb fish things and it was...nice. Consistent. Your presence put me at ease, so I guess...thanks."

He opened his palm and then tilted it sideways so the dirt dropped on top of the cardboard box. When his hand was finally empty, he moved to grab the shovel, but Natsuo had already picked it up. His younger brother shook his head, refusing to give it back, and started the process of burying the box.

Tears slipped out of Shouto's eyes. He turned to cling to Fuyumi, hiding his face in embarrassment. Fuyumi watched sadly. Touya stared, the hollow feeling in his chest matching his gaze. In a matter of minutes, the job was done and Natsuo stepped back. Fuyumi swept Shouto into her arms and carried him back inside, leaving the other two boys to look at the dirt mound.

"You're shit at comforting," Natsuo pointed out.

"Language," Touya corrected unthinkingly. He tore his eyes away from the grave to look at his brother and add in a flat, "I know."

Natsuo smiled faintly. "But it was honest. I think Shouto needed that."

Well, at least he had done something right.

While Natsuo returned the shovel to the shed, Touya shuffled back inside the house where it was blessedly cool. He really needed to take a shower, but sleep was the only thing on his mind right now. Mentally and emotionally tired out of his mind, it was painful enough walking up the stairs to his bedroom on the second floor. He could hear Fuyumi reading a story to Shouto in his room as he passed by. Once in the safety of his own room, Touya all but collapsed on his bed without even changing clothes and was unconscious in a matter of seconds.

Naturally, he dreamed of fish, swimming around in a lake of blue and red fire. It was the first time he'd forgotten to put his quirk inhibitor braces on before falling asleep. He was lucky that his quirk didn't activate in his sleep. It lied dormant deep within him, as if even it was too weak to come out. The fish swam and the fire beckoned him and maybe Shouto cried from somewhere, but all Touya could do was watch in his dream.


End file.
